Dinnerus Interruptus
by loganslosscheetos
Summary: Margot drags Logan to a stuffy dinner at the last minute. Logan is unable to call Max and inform her that dinner is canceled, so when Max shows up to an empty apartment, she is less than pleased. So she decides to a little revenge. Wackiness ensues.


Dinner Interruptus  
  
Summary: Margot drags Logan to a stuffy dinner at the last minute. Logan is unable to call Max and inform her that dinner is canceled, so when Max shows up to an empty apartment, she is less than pleased. So she decides to a little revenge. Wackiness ensues, of course.  
  
Disclaimer: *fails to think of a witty disclaimer* Eh, I own nothing.  
  
A/N: Set sometime during S1, after the blood transfusion so Logan can walk, just because that's the kind of mood I'm in today.  
  
  
  
  
  
Logan rummaged through the fridge, looking for something, *anything* that he could turn into a wonderfully tasting full course meal. So far, he was having no luck. He had not been shopping in a while and the only things that could be found in his refrigerator were leftovers and a mystery bowl he had no intentions of opening.  
  
"Maybe I could run to the store." He mumbled and glanced at his watch.  
  
He closed the fridge door, grabbed his keys, and made his way to the front door. When he opened the front door, he got quite a surprise.  
  
There, standing before him was Margot. Her hand was raised, obviously she was about to knock.  
  
"Logan! How lucky for me you're home!" Margot exclaimed and pushed her way into the penthouse. "Of course where else would you be? I mean, it's not like you go out!"  
  
Logan stood stunned. He shook his head, trying to clear his mind. It was then he noticed the evening gown Margot was wearing.  
  
"Ma - Aunt Margot, aren't you a bit... dressed up to be visiting me?" He asked.  
  
Margot swiped her fingers down the doorway, then looked at them and wrinkled her nose. She wiped the dust off her fingers then turned to Logan. She shoved something in his arms and smiled widely at him.  
  
"I'm not dressed up to visit *you*." Margot stated, as if Logan should have known that all along. "I'm dressed up for the Whitney Banquet."  
  
"Okay, but what does that have to do with me?" Logan asked and looked at the bundle in his arms. It was a tux.  
  
"Well, with Jonas, you know, being dead and all, I needed someone to go with." Margot said.  
  
Logan was a bit unnerved by Margot's casualness over Jonas' death, but decided calling her an 'icy bitch' at that moment would not be good for him. Not good at all.  
  
"Can't you go with Uncle Charles?" Logan asked.  
  
"No." Margot replied icily. "He's going with some little tramp that's half his age."  
  
Logan ignored the raised eyebrows he got from Margot.  
  
"Thing is," Logan said and handed the tux back to Margot. "I *can't* go. I've already got plans for dinner. So, I guess I'll see you next reunion. Bye -"  
  
"Not so fast." Margot growled and shoved the tux back into Logan's arms. "You will go with me. If you don't, well, let's just say that I can make things happen."  
  
Logan couldn't believe his ears. Was he receiving some sort of death threat from his own aunt? He opened his mouth to speak, but Margot was quicker with her words.  
  
"Where is it that that little friend of yours... you know, the girl with the dark hair? Where does she work again?" Margot asked and grinned evilly.  
  
"I'll go get dressed." Logan said through clenched teeth and walked stiffly away.  
  
Margot smiled. She was getting her way. As usual.  
  
* * * *  
  
Max sighed as she picked the lock.  
  
"You said it was going to be open." She mumbled to no one.  
  
Once the door was unlocked, she opened the door and walked inside. She slammed the door behind her and sighed.  
  
"You know," She called out. "I'm already really, really pissed off. Normal was hell today and as I was *walking* here, I got rained on. What you're doing is not healthy."  
  
Max walked into the kitchen, ready to yell, but she saw no one. Sighing, she wandered into the living room.  
  
"Logan?" She called. "Hello?  
  
Max walked through every room, then found herself back in the kitchen. Sighing, she opened the fridge and had a peek. Nothing but leftovers and a bowl even she was frightened to open.  
  
Sighing again, she shut the fridge door. That's when she noticed a hastily scrawled note.  
  
*  
  
Max,  
  
Sorry I'm not home. Margot came and... forced me (I'll explain later) to go to some banquet at The Whitney. Totally last minute. Really sorry. You can call me and yell at me if you want, my cell is on.  
  
Sorry again,  
  
Logan  
  
*  
  
Max grabbed the note and shoved it in her jacket pocket.  
  
"I'll do better than call you." She mumbled and left the penthouse.  
  
* * * *  
  
Logan yawned as he listened to one of Margot's friends ramble on and on about his job. Who knew that sitting on your ass all day and yelling at people was interesting? No one. Because it wasn't.  
  
Margot got up suddenly.  
  
"Excuse me," She said. "I have to make a phone call."  
  
As Margot walked off, Logan, for the first (and probably last) time wished Margot had stayed. A very unattractive woman had been winking at him every five seconds, and Logan suspected she only hadn't been a bit more...adventurous because she, like many others, feared Margot.  
  
"Excuse me." Logan heard a voice behind him say, then he felt a tap on the shoulder.  
  
Logan turned and saw a smiling woman standing near him.  
  
"You're Logan Cale, aren't you?" She asked.  
  
"Yes, I'm Logan."  
  
"Well, um, your... wife is here." The woman said. She stopped smiling and stepped to the side, revealing a soaking wet and smiling Max.  
  
Logan made several attempts to speak, but he couldn't form words.  
  
Max, still smiling, walked over and sat in Margot's unoccupied seat. She propped her feet up on the table, rattling all the dishes.  
  
"These real apples?" She asked and pulled a piece of fruit from a dish on the table. "Wait, this is The Whitney! *Of course* they're real apples! The Whitney doesn't mess with wax fruit."  
  
Max took a large bit of the apple and smiled at Logan.  
  
Swallowing, she said, "Having fun, dear?"  
  
The emphasis Max used on the word 'dear' frightened Logan just a little.  
  
"You know, I've done a lot of walking today." She said. "A lot."  
  
"But isn't it pouring outside?" One of Margot's friends asked.  
  
Max nodded.  
  
"Oh is it ever!" She exclaimed. "You know, I asked Logan for an umbrella, but he just threw me outside and told me to work the corner."  
  
Logan's eyes widened and he nearly choked on the water he was drinking. He put the glass down quickly and began sputtering.  
  
"You okay there, *sweetie*?" Max asked and began rocking her chair.  
  
"You're a... a... you know?" One of Margot's female friends asked.  
  
"Aren't all of you?" Max asked and took another large bite of her apple. "I mean, you... you look like a whore. Wow. You had me fooled!"  
  
It was then Margot reappeared at the table. She took one look at Max, then glared at Logan.  
  
"Well, how's it hangin' Margie?" Max asked. Then added to Margot's friends, "And believe me, *something* is hanging. If ya know what I mean."  
  
"Margot, I don't find your nephew's wife acceptable!" A man exclaimed. "Not in the least!"  
  
"My nephew's... w - w - w - w..." Margot struggled with the words.  
  
"Wife." Max added helpfully.  
  
"You... you... *you* are a *Cale*?" Margot gasped.  
  
"Yeah!" Max exclaimed. "And gee, I feel... I feel like we're so close Margie! I mean, the other night when you went out working with me! Wow! I didn't know how truly experienced you were!"  
  
Logan stared down at his dinner plate, thinking about how very bad the situation was.  
  
"Margot!" One of the women at the table exclaimed.  
  
"What?" Margot snapped. "I have *never* associated with this... this... tramp in all my life!"  
  
Max gasped in an overly dramatic way. She then threw her apple on the table with great force and stood up.  
  
"Thems fightin' words from wheres I comes from!" Max exclaimed.  
  
"Wait!" Margot exclaimed and grabbed Max's hand. "Where's your ring? If you're married, you should be wearing a ring. Where is it?"  
  
"Well," Max said and turned to the people at the table. "Logan didn't want me have one. He says I'm... I'm damaged goods!"  
  
"Appalling!" One of the men exclaimed and glared at Logan.  
  
Logan just continued to stare at his dinner plate.  
  
"Damaged goods?" Margot repeated. "What... what does that mean?"  
  
"I'm pregnant." Max sniffled. "And... and well, Logan says it ain't his, but I know it is. 'Cause I haven't been workin' the streets in like a month, so it's gotta be his."  
  
"Logan!" Margot screeched and threw Max's half-eaten apple at Logan's head.  
  
"Ow!" Logan exclaimed and stood up. He threw a glare at Max, but she just smiled.  
  
"Damaged goods?" Margot shrieked and began throwing rolls at Logan. "Damaged goods? Damaged goods!? DAMAGED GOODS!?"  
  
When Margot picked up a fork, Logan slowly began backing away. He tipped over his chair, dodging a thrust by Margot.  
  
Max rolled her eyes and grabbed Margot's wrist, causing her to drop the fork.  
  
"Look, bitch calm yourself." Max said and sat Margot down. "This was just a joke. I'm not a hooker." Max threw a glare at the others sitting at the table. "And I'm not married to Logan. *But* I am pregnant with Logan's child. And we're not married."  
  
"Oh good God." Margot breathed then fainted.  
  
Smiling, Max led Logan out of the room. Once outside, Max began laughing hysterically.  
  
"I'm glad you thought it was funny!" Logan exclaimed.  
  
"Sorry, but I just keep imagining her face when she wakes up, still thinking I'm pregnant." Max said and leaned against the building for support.  
  
"You've probably killed her you know." Logan said. "She's probably in there having a heart attack right now."  
  
Max stopped laughing and thought that over.  
  
"Wanna make me dinner to apologize... and celebrate?"  
  
Logan thought that over.  
  
"Yeah, okay."  
  
THE END 


End file.
